Warm Hands
by Forelle
Summary: A One-Shot of Katara realizing something about the arrogant Fire Nation prince. Pre-Zutara  A completely random drabble bit


I was told, as a child, that hands are the pathways to the soul.

Those who have hard, calloused hands show that they have lived a hard life and they have fulfilled all that they wished to accomplish. The men and women who have soft, dainty hands are those who have had the fortune to see everything they have ever wanted handed to them on a silver platter. Gnarled hands are signs of much work and hard times. While hands, which hold only defined lines and whose fingers are not wavy and knotted, show definition and assuredness in life.

My grandmother showed me many hands all around the tribe. She showed me how the warriors' rough hands come from working at their craft with all their might. She dragged my brother over to me one time and showed how his hands had the makings of warrior's hands. He'd blushed a little and spluttered while I laughed.

Instead of stalking off as he always seemed to do when he was flustered he stood his ground and pointed at me and proclaimed to the tribe that I had the softest hands in the whole world and would never be anything more than a cook. I stood up indignantly and a wash of water sprang at him in the face leaving him soaked. Instead of staying for the rest of the lesson my Gran-Gran had for me, I stalked off to the beach.

As I sat there, letting the waves crash around me, I looked at my hands with frustration. It wasn't that I hated working, in fact I did most of the washing and cleaning in the house, but it was always with help from my waterbending, never with my hands.

I stared at the soft hands now, willing them to become rougher, to show signs of wear and tear, but nothing changed.

Nothing changed for a good long while until I met a young boy named Aang and a firebender named Zuko.

"Katara!" Aang whined from across the table. I take a deep breath before turning around to face the young boy before me. He looks truly upset this time, but I can't sit still for so long without wanting, no needing, to do something outside of the temple.

"Yes Aang?" I try to give him my best smile. He buys it. Hook, line, and sinker.

"Do you really have to go out into the forest? We don't know what's out there and things might be poisonous or dangerous or -"

"Do you really trust this master waterbender so little?"

"No! No, that's not it, I just -"

"Aang." He quiets. "Look, things are going well here for now. I'm sure things will be fine while I'm gone, besides, Sokka and Toph and all the others are fine with it. And we really do need something else in the soup; otherwise I think Sokka will go crazy." Aang looks a little tempered, but still a little unconvinced.

"Well, what if -"

"I'll go with her." Both of us look over to the figure standing in the doorway. I can't help my immediate reaction of a sneer, but Aang looks . . . contemplative? I glare at Zuko again.

"No way, I don't want you to have an easier way out of here." He looks like he's about to make a remark, but I see his lips sew themselves together for a moment before he says anything.

"Don't trust yourself, master waterbender?" I suppose we look like we're about to go after one another because Aang stands up and leaps in between our direct line of sight.

"Both of you stop this! I'm supposed to keep the peace and how well does it look to the world if I can't even keep my friends from attacking one another?" I look at Aang for a moment before watching Zuko relax into a lean on the doorway. I want to slap that damn, calm look off of his face once and for all, but that'd never happen with Aang there ready to pounce in between the two of us.

"Fine." I stalk through the doorway, brushing past Zuko, making sure to keep walking than to look back at his face. I do not really care, but I hear the traitor's footsteps after a moment's hesitation and I pick up the pace. He walks faster. As we walk through the stables, I grab a basket and start picking my way down to the ground. The greenery is covering this wall, vines sprout out everywhere and it is easy to follow a path I've beaten down the wall.

Our time has been spent resting and relaxing. We've set up a routine of sorts and the rushing around of the past year has been catching up to me. That is, until he showed up. Now it's like all Aang has time for is train, train, train!

"He's just a kid, y'know!"I snap back at Zuko. I turn to glare over my shoulder at my silent shadow before I look forward again.

"He's one hundred and twelve, I hardly think that counts as being a-"

"Are you serious?" I turn on my heel and screech in his face. "He was trapped in an iceberg for one hundred of those years – get your hands off of me Zuko!" I fling his hands off my wrists and tramp back around to push through the woods some more. I think I hear him mutter something, but I try not to pay attention to him.

The forests here are thick with tall, thin trees that I have to fight with all of my might to pass through. I realize that snapping branches and twigs won't help me catch anything, but Mr. Arrogant Oh-I'm-So-Cool Firebender behind me just ticks me off with his presence as he walks like a ghost. We've been walking for an hour or so and I've got a couple fruits and veggies in the basket.

"Katara," he whispers softly. A warm hand grasps my wrist and I spin around, a hot, burning ball of hate ready to be flung at him when another hand closes over my mouth. This arrogant, traitorous – "Don't move."

That's all he says, but his golden eyes look deadly as they track something moving behind me. His warm hands make my face hot, but I'm not about move if the creature has Zuko scared. As I stand there, I move my wrist slightly so as to bend some water into ice and I realize something. Zuko's hands are rough. Not calloused, not yet, but in a few years they'll be there. I look up at Zuko's face again, peering up at the hard lines that are etched around his right eye and the harsh, red scar on his left.

_He's not led an easy life for a while__,_ a voice murmurs in my head. It's true, I realize. He searched for the Avatar for three years, but then, he's a prince of the Fire Nation. Exiled, sure, but still a prince all the same. But still . . .

"Katara?" I look into the gold eyes of the Fire Nation prince, coming back to myself.

"Yes? Oh, is it gone?" He's moved back a few steps from me.

"Yes. Do you want to continue looking for food?"

"No. I think there's enough for now. We can go out later if we really need to." He nods before turning back around and heading back the way we came. I stand still for a moment before following after him. I can still feel his handprint on my wrist and his warm palm on my mouth.


End file.
